


Trig Functions and Mega-Hot Superstars

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Prompt Fills 2018 [15]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Coming Out, F/F, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 15:58:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14358783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Any, any, teacher AU."Janet, a junior at Cold Spings High School, gets math tutoring from her math teacher Mr. Sheppard, and they both agree that actor Rodney McKay is mega-hot.





	Trig Functions and Mega-Hot Superstars

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely SherlockianSyndromes for her beta work and support!

Janet liked math class with Mr. Sheppard because he made math interesting, and he admitted when parts of it were hard, and he was super patient about explaining things over and over again. A lot of teachers said there was no such thing as a dumb question, but Mr. Sheppard was one of the only teachers who acted like he believed it.

Also, Mr. Sheppard was pretty hot. There were a lot of hot teachers at Cold Springs High. Mr. Mitchell, who taught shop - that guy was ripped like no one’s business, and sometimes, on a hot day when he wasn’t wearing coveralls and slid under a car, his shirt would slide up and everyone could see his magazine-cover abs. Mr. Lorne, who taught art, had big blue eyes and super cute dimples when he smiled, and Janet really liked his voice. Ms. Carter, who taught physics, had pretty blue eyes and a bright smile and also a rack that wouldn’t quit.

Not that Janet would ever say that out loud, but -

But the point was not hot teachers. Mr. Sheppard being so hot was one of the reasons Janet was hesitating in the doorway of his classroom, because he was lounging at his desk, feet kicked up, eating a sandwich and watching something on his tablet. With his jacket off and his collar undone and the way he was smiling, he was super unfairly mega-hot, all elfin ears and just-fucked hair, and Janet wasn’t sure she could talk to him without sounding like an idiot. Having other people around made her less self-conscious and less stupid, because the intensity of his attention was - divided and diluted.

His eyes were constantly shifting colors, sometimes green, sometimes gray, sometimes gold, one time really blue, often hazel, and the full force of his gaze was, well, intense.

Janet just wasn’t getting trigonometric functions, and if she wanted to be able to go to drama camp this summer, she needed good grades, and if she didn’t figure out trig functions soon, her math grade was going to ruin her GPA.

Mr. Sheppard hadn’t noticed her, though, was concentrating pretty intently on whatever he was watching on his tablet. Given that he wasn’t swiping at it, he wasn’t reading.

Janet hitched her backpack higher on her shoulders and tip-toed closer.

She made it all the way beside him without him noticing, and she crept around his desk to see what he was watching, what was making him smile all soft and sweet like that.

He was watching  _ The Salt Room. _

Which was a really intense crime drama. Janet wasn’t supposed to watch it because it was on cable. The main character, played by the also mega-hot Rodney McKay, was bi, but Janet’s parents didn’t know she was bi, and even though the sex scenes were pretty good, Janet was in it for Rodney’s performance. Because he was a phenomenal actor.

Janet’s eyes went wide. Mr. Sheppard was watching the newest episode, the one Janet was dying to see, because in it Rodney McKay’s character, genius Sherlock-like criminal profiler Dr. David Worth, was finally hooking up with one of the other profilers, the also super hot Agent Declan Harp, played by Ronon Dex, who was a fantastic combination of gruff and aggressive and also subtly brilliant. It was one of the few times an openly bi character on a show had lovers of both genders. Dr. Worth had started the show married to a woman and gone through a nasty divorce as his obsession with the killer and the case he and his team were pursuing took a toll on his relationship - and possibly his sanity. 

Janet had heard that Worth and Harp might hook up, had seen the seriously intense on-screen chemistry, and now here it was.

That first passionate lip-lock.

Janet cleared her throat.

Mr. Sheppard started so violently he nearly fell out of his chair. Then he reached out, slapped a hand at his tablet, paused the video, and flipped it so it was facedown on the desk.

“Janet! Don’t scare me like that. Shouldn’t you be eating lunch?” He took his feet off his desk, sat up straighter, set his sandwich down with a bit more calm.

“I already ate,” she said. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You like  _ The Salt Room?” _

“Yes, I do.” Mr. Sheppard started to button his collar and roll down his sleeves, reached for his tie. “You watch it? It’s not too...dark for you?”

Janet shrugged. “Nah. I appreciate good performances, and Rodney McKay is phenomenal. Also mega-hot.”

“Yeah, he is,” Mr. Sheppard said, and his expression actually turned dreamy for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “Was there something you needed?”

“Actually, yes.” Janet shrugged off her backpack, dug around inside it for her trig textbook. “This latest round of functions. I don’t get it.” But her mind was spinning. Mr. Sheppard also thought Rodney McKay was mega-hot. Was he gay? Or bi? So many kids at school had crushes on Mr. Sheppard, but as far as Janet knew, he was single. He didn’t wear a ring, and he didn’t have one of those marks on his finger like he used to wear a ring.

“Okay. Show me where you’re getting confused.” Mr. Sheppard leaned in.

Janet pulled the newest worksheet out of her binder and then showed him the pages and pages of frustrated scribblings in her notebook. She shuffled a little closer to him to hand it to him, and - yeah. He smelled really good.

Mr. Sheppard walked her through the steps of solving the problem, slow and patient, and finally, finally she got it.

For now, till they started a new section.

She had plenty of time for her to get to her first afternoon class, too.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

“Any time. My door’s always open.”

“Didn’t mean to intrude on your Rodney McKay time.” Janet was feeling bold, calling him out on his admission of finding Rodney attractive.

“I can finish this episode at home,” Mr. Sheppard said.

“I’ll bet you need to finish it at home,” Janet said, with a meaningful waggle of her eyebrows. “I know I would.”

“Whoa, hey, TMI, I’m your teacher. And that’s my future husband you’re talking about,” he said, mock-sternly.

Janet laughed. “Oh my gosh, you sound like a teenage girl.”

“What’s wrong with that? You said it yourself. Rodney McKay is mega hot.” Mr. Sheppard shrugged, nonchalant, but he was still smiling. “See you tomorrow, Janet. Good luck with those functions.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sheppard.” Janet scooped her stuff into her backpack and headed for the door.

*

Sure enough, after the next section, she was back in his classroom on her lunch break to ask for help. Once again, he was watching something on his tablet and munching on a sandwich, but he noticed her faster this time.

“I saw the look on your face, when I handed out the worksheet,” he said. He turned off his tablet and turned it facedown on the desk.

“I have a pretty good poker face, but math class is not drama class, so I should be honest, and I honestly need help.”

Mr. Sheppard glanced at his watch. “Unfortunately, I have a staff meeting I need to get to in about ten minutes, but if you have time after school, I’d be more than willing to help you.”

Janet nodded. “Okay. Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Mr. Sheppard dusted sandwich crumbs off his hands, started fixing his collar and tie. He was always dressed really sharp for class, but Janet liked seeing him like this, all casual and relaxed.

“So, what did you think of your future husband’s performance in the newest episode?” Janet asked.

Mr. Sheppard chuckled. “It was pretty good. But then I’m probably not as much of an authority on his performance as you are, future Oscar winner that you are.”

“You’re just in it for the hotness?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“I’ve seen pretty much everything Rodney McKay has been in, back to when he was a teenager. I want to be as good as him one day,” Janet said.

“Wow, that’s - dedication. Not that I haven’t also seen every single thing he was in -”

“You take that future husband thing seriously, don’t you?”

Mr. Sheppard nodded, looking a little rueful. “Yeah.”

“But I think it’d be cool if I could be a serious actor like him,” Janet said. “And also - also represent the bi community a bit more. I think it’s super cool that a bi actor gets to play a bi role. And I think I could help more people like me - women of color who are also bi or whatever.” She swallowed hard. She’d never said it aloud like that before.

Mr. Sheppard’s expression softened. “I think that’d be really cool too. Anyway, staff meeting, gotta go. See you after your last class.”

Janet nodded, her heart still thumping against her ribcage, and followed Mr. Sheppard out of the classroom.

Janet didn’t much like staying after school for tutoring, and once play rehearsals kicked in, she had to switch to early mornings - because a bunch of the teachers got to school early to prep, including Mr. Sheppard - and that meant less sleep. But summer drama camp would be worth it. 

It was super nice of Mr. Sheppard to help her extra, and Janet was really grateful. Also, he was the only person she could talk to about  _ The Salt Room _ and Rodney McKay, and it kind of became their thing. He was also the only person she could be honest with about being bi. He was her teacher, so she didn’t go into details, but she could say stuff about liking girls  _ and _ liking boys and he didn’t freak out or threaten to tell anyone or put her down. He just accepted it, like it was normal conversation. And it was - except she couldn’t really have it with anyone else.

Janet was planning on dancing with another girl at the upcoming spring fling dance. Leah was out and proud, identified as lesbian, but Janet was pretty sure her ex had been bi, and their break-up hadn’t been because Leah couldn’t handle the bi part of things.

So while Janet and Mr. Sheppard were reviewing trig ratios, she asked.

“Are you going to be chaperoning the dance?”

“Nope. Gonna be enjoying the Oscars with my future husband,” Mr. Sheppard said.

Janet laughed. His crush on Rodney McKay was downright adorable, and she told him so frequently. “You’re hilarious. Also the Oscars are on Sunday and the dance is on Saturday.”

“I want to look my best for our big date on Sunday, and it takes time to make this pretty happen.” Mr. Sheppard gestured to his hair and clothes. “Well, no, not the hair, it’s just like that, I can’t control it, no one can, and many people have tried.”

Janet swallowed down her disappointment. If she asked Leah to dance and it went badly - or if teachers reacted badly - she’d have no one who’d stick up for her, even though she knew Mr. Sheppard would. But she understood. He had a life outside of school.

“Also, Mitchell lost a bet and owes me, so he’s chaperoning in my place,” Mr. Sheppard said.

Janet managed to repress a shudder of horror. Mr. Mitchell was pretty damn fine, but with his Southern drawl and anecdotes of his Bible-thumping grandmother, he was probably the last person who’d stick up for her if other kids got after her for dancing with Leah - or even asking her.

Mr. Sheppard smiled at her, oblivious to her anxiousness. “Have fun without me. I’ll be having fun without you. With my future husband.”

“Oh, haha,” Janet said, faking up a cheery smile. “He’d marry me first and you know it.”

She was a damn good actress, so Mr. Sheppard bought it.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him,” Mr. Sheppard said. “Now, how are you feeling about these trig ratios?”

“Not great, but probably good enough to pass the next quiz.”

Mr. Sheppard patted her hand. “Excellent. Now - it’s Friday night. Go. Be free. Have fun.”

Janet packed up her things. “You too. Enjoy your imaginary date.”

“Oh, I will.”

*

As it turned out, none of the teachers got after Janet for asking Leah to dance (or for dancing with Leah when she accepted), but some of the other students did. It was Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Lorne who were there first to defend Janet and Leah. Mr. Lorne stood in front of them - shielding them, Janet realized - while Mr. Mitchell spoke fast and sharp, sent the mean students out of the gym.

“You got this?” he asked Mr. Lorne.

“Yeah. Go. Sam’s calling Principal Weir.”

“You’re safe with Evan,” Mr. Mitchell said to Janet and Leah, and then he stormed out to the hallway, his expression thunderous.

As soon as he was gone, Mr. Lorne turned to Janet and Leah. “You all right?”

Leah had dealt with a lot of crap when she first came out in middle school, and she nodded, angry but not afraid. Janet was angry - and shaking, because even though she’d known the slurs and shouting and threats were a possibility, the reality was terrifying.

She forced herself to take several deep breaths, try to calm herself. She was an actress. She had better control of herself than most people. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” She cleared her throat. “They were just being jerks. So...Evan? That’s your first name?”

Mr. Lorne looked confused by the turn in conversation for a moment, but then he nodded. “Yeah.”

“No one ever uses it,” Janet said. “The other teachers call each other by their first names, but even to them, you’re Lorne.”

“Most days I think they’ve forgotten I have a first name,” Mr. Lorne admitted. “But Cam calls me by my first name. He’s the only one.”

It took Janet a moment to realize he meant Mr. Mitchell. Everyone else called him Cameron. Mr. Lorne guided them over to the sidelines, told the other students there was nothing to look at, to get back to enjoying the dance, and then he stayed with them.

Mr. Mitchell returned fifteen minutes later. “Weir’s on it,” he said, “and she’s calling parents and reinforcements.”

Mr. Lorne nodded. “Good.” He smiled at Leah and Janet. “You can go keep dancing if you want.”

Janet started to nod, but she was still shaking. “I might just have some punch first.”

“Okay.” Mr. Lorne smiled tightly again.

Mr. Mitchell put a hand on Mr. Lorne’s arm, guided him away a short distance, spoke softly, but because of the loud music it wasn’t so soft that Janet couldn’t hear them.

“You all right?” Mr. Mitchell asked.

“Yeah.”

“What they were saying -”

“I heard worse in basic, and it wasn’t like those kids had knives and guns,” Mr. Lorne said.

Mr. Mitchell reached up, cupped Mr. Lorne’s jaw for just a second, and Mr. Lorne turned into the caress - and then they stepped apart, and Janet realized. They were  _ together. _

Janet glanced at Leah, caught her eye. She’d noticed too.

Leah reached out, curled her fingers through Janet’s. 

“Come on. Dance with me.”

So Janet did. All night long.

*

The next day, her parents sat her down for a very serious conversation. They’d had a phone call from Principal Weir about what had happened at the dance.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mom asked.

Janet shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. The teachers handled it appropriately. I was fine.”

“I mean why didn’t you tell us you like girls?” 

Janet shrugged again but avoided her mother’s gaze. “I like both.”

Dad reached out, lifted her chin, caught her gaze. “Hey. We’re not mad at you. Just - you won’t have an easy time of it. I wish you’d told us sooner.”

“Why?”

“We’re your parents, and we love you, and we want to protect you,” Dad said.

Janet bit her lip.

“Honey,” Mom began.

“You promise you’re not mad?”

“Promise,” Dad said, and she threw herself into his arms for a hug.

There was laughing and crying and more hugs, and then they settled into a normal day, cooking and cleaning and doing weekend chores. Mom asked her about any girls she’d liked over the years, in addition to the boys she’d told them about.

Mom asked her if anyone else at school had ever made her feel unsafe.

“No, not besides what happened at the dance, but then I wasn’t very out,” Janet explained while she and her mother were in the kitchen preparing snacks. Awards season was like another holiday season for her family, because her mother was an actress and her father was a musician. They would watch the Oscars and the Emmys and the Grammys and the AMAs together.

“Have any teachers ever -?”

“No. No, actually, it was a couple of teachers who were the first to stand up for me last night,” Janet said.

Her mother smiled, patted her hair. “Good.”

“You know Mr. Sheppard, my math teacher?”

“The one who’s been tutoring you?”

Janet nodded, scooped up the dish of seven-layer nacho dip. “Yeah. He was super nice the first time I mentioned I was bi. I think maybe he’s gay?”

Mom bit her lip. “You told him first? And not us? Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we wouldn’t -?”

“No. Just - he’s kind of a stranger. Telling him wasn’t as big a risk,” Janet said quickly. “But now he’s almost - a friend? He totally gets my crush on Rodney McKay. He has one too. He calls Rodney his future husband.”

Mom laughed. “That’s very sweet. I’m glad he was a positive support for you.” She managed to balance the bowl of nacho chips on a tray already laden with hummus, crackers, vegetable spread, and homemade sourdough.

They headed into the den where Janet’s father was setting up TV trays with drinks.

“Who was a positive support?” he asked, using his knife to pry the bottle off of the top of an old-fashioned Coke bottle.

“Mr. Sheppard, my math teacher,” Janet said.

“The one who’s been tutoring you?”

“Yeah.” 

“We should thank him,” Dad said to Mom.

“We should,” Mom agreed.

Janet set the dip on the coffee table, then arranged her tray so she could sit comfortably on the couch but also reach what she wanted.

Dad and Mom arranged themselves side-by-side on the loveseat. 

“Ugh, the red carpet.” Dad rolled his eyes. “Get to the awards!”

“Shush, you. I like to see the dresses,” Mom said.

“I like to see the actors,” Janet said. “I can’t wait to see Rodney. He looks so good in a suit.”

Dad made a face. “Rodney McKay? He’s not that attractive. He has a funny mouth.”

“Blasphemy,” Mom said primly. “He’s beautiful. Right, honey?”

Janet grinned and gave her a high five.

Mom started in on a running commentary on the dresses and tuxes and designers just to annoy Dad, and Janet joined in.

Then the actual red carpet announcer said, “And here’s Best Supporting Actor nominee Rodney McKay. The film his Oscar nod comes from is also up for several more awards, including Best Picture.”

Janet, who’d been shamelessly stuffing her face with nachos, swallowed hurriedly and leaned in to watch, holding her breath.

A limo pulled up to the red carpet, and some neckless goon in a cheap suit, earpiece, and sunglasses even though it was evening, opened the door.

Rodney slid out out of the limo, and he looked stunning in his tux, all broad shoulders and bright blue eyes. Then he turned and offered his hand to someone, and -

“Holy shit!” Janet cried.

“Language,” both of her parents said at the same time.

“It’s Mr. Sheppard.”

“Your math teacher?” Mom asked.

“Where?” Dad asked.

Janet squeaked and pointed at the screen. “Rodney McKay’s date!”

“Is your math teacher?” Dad asked.

“Yes!”

If Mr. Sheppard looked hot in slacks and a button-down shirt and tie, he looked breathtaking in a nice tux, lean and strong. He stood beside Rodney, smiling politely for the cameras while Rodney kept a hand in the small of his back, guiding and proprietary all at once.

“Wait,” Mom said, “you mean your math teacher, the one you said calls Rodney McKay his future husband -”

“Is on TV at the Oscars with Rodney McKay right now.” Janet snatched up her phone, texted Leah, texted everyone in her math class whose numbers she knew. “I cannot believe this. This is so cool!” And then she paused. “Wait. All those times I told him about how much I have a crush on Rodney - you don’t think he  _ told _ him, did he?”

“I doubt he would have,” Dad said.

“Well,” Mom said, “I guess that explains why he was so supportive of you being bi.” She squinted at the screen. “Is he really your math teacher? I went to parent-teacher conferences, and I don’t remember your math teacher being that hot.”

“I told you,” Janet said, her eyes glued to the screen as Rodney and Mr. Sheppard made their way down the red carpet, pausing for photographs and autographs and interviews. “Mr. Sheppard just started this semester. I had Mr. Wallace last year. He was cool but not as fun.”

“He’s not as hot as me though, right, honey?” Dad asked.

Mom leaned over and kissed him on the cheek without looking away from the TV. “Of course not, dear.”

A reporter thrust a microphone at Rodney, asked who he was wearing that night - Armani - and what he thought about his film’s chances for success.

_ “Red Silence _ was a fun film to make. I had great castmates and the writing and directing were phenomenal, and we were pushed to our best limits to give our best performances, and it’s a worthy contender for best picture,” Rodney said.

“What do you think your chances are at winning Best Supporting Actor?”

“I’ve got some impressive competition, and it’s an honor to be counted among them.”

“Such politic answers,” Dad drawled.

“Usually you play really cerebral, dramatic, fast-talking roles,” the reporter said. “How was it, playing a gay hitman sniper?”

“Well, the gay thing was really ancillary to the plot and one facet of my character,” Rodney said. “Being cast as a laconic character was a new challenge, but obviously I rose to it, or I wouldn’t be a nominee tonight. Luckily I was able to get a lot of personalized training and hands-on experience with sniper rifles to give the character some authenticity.” He patted Mr. Sheppard’s shoulder and smiled at him.

Janet blinked. Wait. Did that mean Mr. Sheppard knew how to use a sniper rifle?

The reporter turned to him. “So you worked on the film with Rodney? How was it?”

“Ah, no, I’m not a movie guy,” Mr. Sheppard said, and it was uncanny, hearing his familiar voice coming out of the television. 

The reporter blinked, confused, her fake, too-bright smile frozen on her face.

“I’m a math teacher.” 

The reporter blinked again.

“High school math teacher,” Mr. Sheppard added.

The reporter just stared at him.

He turned to Rodney and said in a low voice, but not low enough, “You said I wouldn’t have to actually say anything.”

“John was a PJ before he retired and became a math teacher,” Rodney said.

The reporter still looked confused.

Rodney stared at her. “Do you not know anything about your country’s military? I’m Canadian and I -”

Mr. Sheppard clapped him on the shoulder, flashed the reporter a bright smile. “Rodney’s totally got it in the bag. He’s definitely going home with that Oscar tonight.” To Rodney he said, “Move along.”

Rodney tried to protest, but Mr. Sheppard just shuffled him further down the red carpet.

The feed cut back over to the other end of the red carpet for the arrival of another celebrity.

“Oh man.” Janet flopped back on the couch. “My math teacher is dating my celebrity crush.”

“I guess Rodney McKay really  _ is _ your math teacher’s future husband,” Dad said.

“Yeah,” Janet said faintly.

She watched the show intently, felt her pulse jump whenever the camera cut to the audience and she saw Rodney and Mr. Sheppard in the crowd.

When the nominees for Best Supporting Actor were read, all of the nominees were shown in small frames. Janet held her breath. It had to be Rodney. It had to. She’d seen every movie slated for Best Picture and also every movie Rodney’s competitors were involved in, and he was by far the best actor. His role had been the most complex and challenging. He deserved that Oscar.

Then the winner’s name was read and his image filled the screen and Janet squealed and leaped to her feet, applauding fiercely as Rodney leaned over, kissed Mr. Sheppard, and rose to his feet, made his way to the stage.

He accepted the statue and handshakes and hugs from the presenters, then leaned in to give his speech. He thanked the director, his castmates, his sister for her lifelong support of his drama career, his first drama teacher, and his longest-running drama coach for putting up with him, his agent and his manager.

“And last but most certainly not least, thank you John, the love of my life, for very patiently teaching me to properly handle firearms, and for putting up with me being gone all the time and being crazy when I’m home. You’re the best of me. Please marry me.”

Rodney hoisted the statue high, and the camera cut to Mr. Sheppard, who looked shocked, and then pleased, and then Rodney was hopping of the stage and heading toward him. The camera followed Rodney as he headed up the aisle to Mr. Sheppard, he’d stumbled over some very important celebrities to meet him. Rodney handed him the little golden statuette, fumbled in his pockets, and came up with a little black velvet box. He opened it, held it out.

Mr. Sheppard stared at it for a moment, nodded, and then Rodney was sliding a ring onto his hand and they were kissing and there was thunderous applause and cheers from everyone in the auditorium.

Once the camera cut away from them and the program switched to a commercial, Janet scrambled for her phone, sent text messages to Leah and everyone in her math class, and then squeed all over social media.

“Breathe, honey,” Mom reminded her.

Dad said, “You’d think  _ you’d _ won an Oscar.”

“One day,” Janet said, “I will.”

“You’re  _ really _ excited,” Dad said.

“Honey, Rodney proposed to Mr. Sheppard. It was very cute and romantic.”

“There were fireworks when I proposed to you,” Dad muttered.

“It’s not that weird,” Janet said, flopping back down in her chair. “People do crazier stuff when their football teams win.”

“True,” Dad said. “Now shush - I want to see who wins Best Song.”

*

Janet was surprised as all get-out to see Mr. Sheppard first thing Monday morning when she peeked into his classroom for some more tutoring help. He did look incredibly tired, though - and glowy and happy. 

His new ring glinted on his left hand when he covered a yawn.

He smiled when he saw her, though, beckoned her closer. “Still having a rough time with those trig ratios?”

She crept closer, nodded. “Yeah. But - you look tired. I can come back another time -”

“No, it’s fine. My own fault for staying out late.”

And probably taking a red-eye flight home on a fancy private jet or something, Janet thought. She smiled at him and added, “Congratulations, by the way.”

He blinked at her, confused.

“On your engagement.”

“Hm? Oh, thanks.” He smiled down at his ring for a moment. “Pull up a chair. We’ll make a mathematician of you yet.”

Janet dragged a student desk closer to his big teacher desk, dug her notebook and worksheet out of her backpack. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re really not bad at math,” Mr. Sheppard began.

And then Rodney McKay’s voice filled the room. “John, you forgot your lunch. I didn’t slave over it just for you to leave it on the counter - oh. Sorry. You’re with a student. I’ll just put this here and -”

Janet turned around slowly, eyes wide.

In person, Rodney McKay was even hotter. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and khakis, and his hair was mussed, and he looked  _ perfect. _

“Hey, Rodney. Sorry. I guess I’m more tired than I thought. This is one of my students, Janet. She’s a junior, an aspiring actress, and also a pretty big fan of yours. Janet, this is Rodney, but you already knew that.”

“Hi,” Janet said in a small voice. 

Rodney came closer, set a little blue plastic lunch box on Mr. Sheppard’s desk. Then he offered Janet a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Always grateful to meet fans.”

Mr. Sheppard snorted.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Always grateful to meet sane fans.”

Janet managed to make herself move, shake his hand. “Hi,” she said again.

Rodney peered at her worksheet. “Trig functions.” He eyed Mr. Sheppard.  _ “This _ is how you’re teaching math these days?” He plucked a pencil out of the  _ Mathematicians do not do it, they leave it as an exercise to the reader _ mug on Mr. Sheppard’s desk and scrawled in the margin. “There.”

Mr. Sheppard sighed. “The whole point of her doing it herself is so she learns it. Not everyone can be a Nobel-level genius on top of an Oscar-winning actor.”

“Jeannie’s close to that Nobel and you know it,” Rodney said. “Besides, you got an Air Force Cross long before I got my Oscar.”

Janet raised her eyebrows.

Mr. Sheppard blushed.  _ “Anyway, _ thank you for bringing my lunch. I’ll see you after school. Go home and rest.”

“Yes, of course, after school. Is Sam still teaching physics? I thought I’d stop by and see her. And those cretins you call friends, Mitchell and Webb? No, those are comedians. Mitchell and Lorne.”

“Cameron and Lorne and Carter do still teach here, yes,” Mr. Sheppard said patiently.

Rodney leaned in and kissed John on the cheek, then straightened up. “A pleasure to meet you, Janet. Good luck with the math.” And he turned and walked away.

“So,” Janet said, “your future husband.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Sheppard said.

“He’s mega-hot.”

“Yes he is.”


End file.
